Iwagasaki Masato
May 3, 2012 13:26:44 GMT -8
Post by Raewynne Cousland on May 3, 2012 13:26:44 GMT -8
Profile Information
Name: Iwagasaki Masato
Gender: Masculine
Age: 545; Appears to be 25
Faction: Shinigami
Rank: 6th Division Fukutaichō
Reiatsu Color: An admirable, and dusky myrtle shade of green.
Reiatsu Aura: Compassion-
[/color] The opponent, or friend receives a feeling of deep sympathy, and sorrow for those stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering. Overall, a feeling of empathy, to the point where it makes the person feel better, which can often be used as a tool of deception, if of course it was utilized against the enemy.Name: Iwagasaki Masato
Gender: Masculine
Age: 545; Appears to be 25
Faction: Shinigami
Rank: 6th Division Fukutaichō
Reiatsu Color: An admirable, and dusky myrtle shade of green.
Reiatsu Aura: Compassion-
Appearance:
All in all, if one were to gaze at this unique looking man, they would be in awe of how absolutely stunning Masato is; he's the tall, handsome, and in-shape type, with the most bizarre eye-color imaginable. His height is no less than 6 feet, and no more than 6 feet, 2 inches weighing in at almost 185 pounds. Primarily composed of muscle since he is ultimately a soldier, Masato is, however, full of stamina despite the extra pounds of hard-working muscle. Definitely a toned man and as cold and determined in fights, but he is most desirably as soft and gentle as a teddy bear off the battlefield.
His sole, alarming trait acquired through random genetic mutation and possible gene recombination at birth would have to be his deep emerald eyes. People would often stare in pure curiosity at his strange gene.
An ugly truth, but Masato has an obsession with his hair; there is never a time where one hair is out of place, or it looks truly like a mess. It is kept in tip top condition, and at the utmost care. Masato’s hair ranges from a dark shade of brown, to almost black pigmentation. Oh, and his obsession with cheese makes him go berserk, since Soul Society seems like the only place where it has it.
A young, good-looking man indeed.
Personality: A rather compassionate and playful young man, Masato tends to make jokes that could either be annoying to most, but ultimately hilarious to some. He adores cheese and his hair, and will stop at nothing to help those in need of saving. Masato is truly noble; he has a high respect for others, despite if that person is low in ‘class rank and authority’, or even beneath himself. He’s the type of man who’s sweet, gentle and caring, but not too nice to be considered weird. He can be upset, especially if there’s an argument between him, and another who possesses conflicting ideals against him. Though, he can still show his regards after an explosive, heated argument.
Masato has recently rejected his value of duty over feeling, and now conducts his actions and plans with both factoring equally; especially if that relates to women. The recent upset that the woman that he loves has disappeared has inevitably left him filled with sorrow, expecting her return… Though she doesn’t really know that he loves her. This brings a sense of hardness on his personality; Masato can easily make a tough choice regarding his own feelings or views on the subject, and can live with the fact or consequences of his actions. Ironically, he’s shy, and yet unpredictable. Still innocent and pure, his actions are usually set for the greater good.
History:
Background
Born on any ordinary day in Rukongai, the small, unique-looking baby was deemed the name Masato. His mother, who happened to be a servant to one of the lesser noble families, the Iwagasaki clan, supposedly hid her pregnancy in secrecy, and fled with child in hand to the 21st district of Rukongai. It would later be revealed that Masato’s mother, Kaori, had an affair with the head male of the clan, Maverick, and had she not departed and ceased her servitude for the clan, her and her newborn child would probably be dead.
So, by the time the male reached the teenage years of any typical spirit in Rukongai, his mother had raised him most diligently and through the eyes and difficulty of a single parent. Luckily, she found work through servitude of another clan, though Masato was also forced to do labor and service but more so jobs outside in the garden. Through the hardships of his childhood, leading up to his teenage years, he learned how to respect one another, how to truly be kind, and proper mannerisms for any true noble to have.
One fateful day in his teenage years, he happened to be receiving groceries for the family he worked for, when a pair of Shinigami recruiters stopped him dead in his tracks. They sensed the spiritual energy within him, and encouraged him to enter the Academy and further his realization of becoming a Shinigami.
His mother was more than happy to send him there, and it soon enough, Masato had entered the academy.
Academy
For the 6 years he ‘endured’ in the academy, he had actually finished with flying colors. His Kidō skills were moderate, but his combat skills went through the roof. The more they practiced, the more in shape he became, especially since he had conditioning with all the yard work and chores he completed throughout his servitude for the clan. At the end of the 4th year, Masato was slightly nervous with the exam, since he wasn’t truly sure if he was good with tests. Luckily, he passed on average terms, and fortunately was ready to search for his calling.
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6th Division
After graduation, Masato literally sprinted to tell his mother of his great news. She was ultimately ecstatic, only to sit her child down for some required talk; and so, the Iwagasaki heir learned of his secret. Officially, he never really knew of his surname, but after this discovery that he was the Head of the Iwagasaki Clan’s son, he realized that the only way to obtain the rightful place on the ‘throne’, he would have to no doubtfully challenge the head’s son, or even the head man himself. Considering that they were a clan composed of Shinigami (although quite lame and unskilled), he’d have to prove his worth. I mean, it’s not like he didn’t look like them at all; in all actuality, he had the same exact features, which is always why he wondered about who his father could be.
It took a week or two to figure out which division best suited him, in which the 6th division was his destination. Many nobles had joined this division, which seemed like truly the place to be, considering he wished to increase his worth on the value scale. Then maybe, just maybe after being in a squad which based their actions on the justice system of Soul Society, and surrounded by pure nobility, Masato would have the chance to increase not only his social status, but also his talents; to be welcomed into his own clan.
He started off in the 18th seat, and worked his way up to the 7th seat. Strange things began to happen… though…
Sealed
Although he was without his sealed zanpakuto, he was determined to make the highest seat possible. Though, to do so, there was one thing required. His actual zanpakuto, in it's sealed form. As he stood there alone, in the confinement of his own training quarters, he ‘accidentally’ swung up with his arm and hit himself in the head, instantly rendering himself unconscious. Blame the determination coursing through his veins.
Sooner or later, although his vision was obscured by darkness, he felt as if he wasn't in 'Kansas' anymore. Masato’s eyes took a moment to adjust to these surroundings. By the looks of it, he appeared in a large, gaping cave, with dim lit green crystals covering the moist sides of the cavern. Slowly he got up, and almost glaringly scanned the area. Nothing, no one in sight; until further gazing down at the tunnel. In his proverbial direction, was the entrance to a throne room of some sort. He remained cautious as he advanced toward the entrance.
Before he could enter, his spirit manifested behind him, and let out a low, feral growl. “What the fuck do you want, pathetic piece of trash shinigami?!” The creature spat, roaring viciously. He quickly spun around and gazed at the demonic creature; instantly, he felt this lingering feeling of suspicion, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
“I want your power, so I can ascend through the ranks, and finally return to my clan." He sternly retorted back at the demon-like spirit, pausing for a moment to regain his 'calm' composure. "So, work with me here and we can act civil towards one another." Masato demanded, staring confidently at the creature; face to face. Though… he could already sense the hatred he’d have for this spiritual being… just great.
What followed was a boisterous, male cackle from the creature, then with a quick nod. "Fine, Masato. I'll give you my blade, but on one condition. The next encounters with me from here on out, you must prove your worth, and if you are weak, I shall rip you to shreds myself! I will not tolerate shitty, weak people!" He shouted. "Now, get the fuck out of my territory, and grow strong. I want us to have a fair fight the next time around!" He snickered as he swiftly disappeared, only to reappear behind the male, whack him in the back of the head to 'awake' him from his unconsciousness in reality.
A low groan emanated his lips as he woke up from the experience, and his vision returned to normal after the quick blackout. Slowly, he got up, and grabbed the jagged, semi-colored blade, enclosed in sheath, next to him. "Oh great… I have a cheese grater for a blade… I’m going to love this." Masato sarcastically grumbled, heading off to sleep.
Shikai
50 years would pass; Masato spent his time perfecting his combat skills, his kenjutsu, his physical capabilities. Of course, he'd take part in the division's duties, and battled against others during missions, etc. He had exceptionally grown strong, and he was rewarded, through recognition, the 3rd seat in his division. Masato was increasingly growing in talent.
It was then, one random day, that Satsuriku challenged him...
"Too fuckin' long, have I been waiting for you, Masato! This starts here! You and me, toe to toe. You win, you get the right to Shikai; but if you lose, you die!" He hollered, as she simply looked around to see the 'room' transform to his inner world. Strange, how he had grown impatient; Masato thought the wielder was the first to call out the spirit for a battle. Guess he slowly was becoming closer to the filthy dark spawn!
"I mean, I was interrupted. Can’t this wait for another time?” Masato inquired, with the slightest hint of sarcasm. Obviously, it was rhetorical question. Cause why would a beast like Satsuriku ever let things go someone else’s way?
Hours, the two fought. Masato used his sealed blade, while the spirit used claws, and serrated teeth. There was obviously no need for him to use any weapon: it was as if his needle-sharp protrusions were the blade itself. The training Masato accomplished in the prior years was essential; or else he would have lost. Although they were equally matched, it was as if the spirit let him win, as if Satsuriku wanted the future dream of authority to continue on.
The wounds, however, were evenly minor and major; dealt to both the demon and male soul. "Fuck! Seems like you've survived, for now. My name is Satsuriku. Not only have you fuckin' shown balls against me, but you've also come to realize this place, this inner world, and myself. Don't be retarded, however, and forget to say my release: Fun, Satsuriku! Or else when you come back, I'll personally kick your ass!" He grinned insanely, his carnivorous teeth shimmering against the green crystals lodged in the sides of the cave. His tail flickered back and forth, making an apparent 'swoosh' noise with every single sway of motion. Evidently, the claw from his index finger pointed up, and away from the throne room of the cavern, gesturing the male to get lost. Masato could only make a face of disgust at the thought of a demon like Satsuriku attempting to kick him in the ass… “Swooping… is… bad…” He muttered. As if glad and relieved to be rid of the eerie place, Masato gained control over his spirit and reiatsu to depart his own inner world. The last noise he heard was of the ghoulish moaning from the faces plastered against Satsuriku’s body… and that only caused the righteous male to shiver in fear. Well, not fear, but irritation… yeah…
He blinked heavily, and the scenery had been the same before; a barren grove, secretly hidden near the 6th division. "Fun, Satsuriku!" He unconsciously said, the sealed blade shifting to it's supposed Shikai state. What a marvelous sight, he thought... with a huge hint of sarcasm. Hell, why did his blade have to be so evil? (Sure, Grey Wardens were more in tune with Dark Spawn, but this closely drawn together?) “Give me a break…geeze.” Masato simply coursed his sole reiatsu through the blade, as if it would allow them to become one. Not saying he personally wanted to become one!
The blade itself looked alive; there was hellish-like skin around the hilt, and even spikes protruded from certain areas. He snorted, merely musing that it was typical Satsuriku looked like this; though honestly, was Masato himself that bad in character? He felt an increase of strength, and when running, he felt faster. Finally now, he could reclaim what was rightfully his.
Extremely weary due to the obvious event, he 'canceled' training early and headed in for the night to recover.
Weeks passed to months, and finally Masato thought he was truly ready to come out from hiding, and confront the Iwagasaki clan. He had used a random last name long enough, and as he approached the gates of the lesser noble clan, the Iwagasaki clan, two servants approached him, and utterly mistook him for the Head of the Clan. When they realized their mistakes, they apologized briefly, though remained dumbfounded.
"I'm sorry, but who are you? You look awfully similar to my master." The older woman asked, perplexed of how this man looked completely like Maverick.
"No, you don't know me. I beg your pardon for rudely approaching this noble estate, but I'm here to see my father, Maverick."
The two servants stood in disbelief, and shock, but the ongoing thought and presence that he resembled Maverick from head to toe became the only truth to that belief. The only thing they could do, however, was bring Masato along the path to relocate with his 'ancestry'.
Judgement day came, Masato appeared before the man he never knew, and other elders of the family. It seemed that Maverick had no children, no heir that would take over the family line... that was until they saw Masato. His emerald eyes, dark hair, and overall muscular physique proved his genetical makeup, but the elders had to come up with a conclusion of how he could prove his true birth right... and that was through combat, with Maverick himself.
He reluctantly agreed, and the two engaged in combat, eventually bringing Masato as the victor. Maverick, who laid in his death bed, brought his voice down to a whisper, so Masato could only hear, "My son... Kaori's son... you are fit to rule... forgive me..."
His breathing ceased, and his soul further passed on through the stages of life and death. The elders inevitably had no choice but to declare Masato as Head of the Iwagasaki clan. By now, he was a young adult, but often at times a younger ruler had better advantages. Much to his dismay, the wife of Maverick was pushed to a side branch, and he demanded Kaori would halt servitude and join him in the clan; though she denied the offer, saying it was his destiny now, and wished him goodluck. Of course he'd visit her from day in and day out, but his accomplishments obviously proved him independent.
Finally, he could be considered what he truly was. A noble, head of the Iwagasaki clan, comprised of lesser nobles, but still held high in society. Man, how will the 6th division members believe this?! Heh.
Love Interest to the Present Fukutaichō Seat
He remained in his spot for quite a while. If Masato chose a different division, he would have never of had met a beautiful, and all the while bizarre woman: Makoto.
His connection with the division had grown strong throughout the years he remained there; strong enough that the longtime Taichō, Daidouji Malik, would occasionally invite him into his noble house. At the time of his traditional visits into the Daidouji household, he had met, and talked to Makoto, who was recently adopted into the house, and considered a niece to Malik. Masato truly had no freakin’ clue as to why he developed any sort of feelings toward her; she was crazy, and off her rocker! Deep down inside though, Masato believed there was some sort of sane side to her erotic behavior, some hidden secret that caused her to behave in such mannerisms.
Unfortunately, he was an innocent, kind young man, and had no experience with licking the lamp post in winter; and rather shy when it came with extravagant women. They talked from time to time, developed a friendship, though his hidden love for her slowly and painfully grew as they interacted more and more. He hardly took their friendship lightly, and to his assumptions, Masato could tell Makoto didn’t either. Every small compliment she made about his unfunny jokes, or his physique made him blush heavily and stutter. She was officially his lady to be. Oh, how he yearned to lure Makoto into his tent and establish intimacy with the woman he wanted so desperately to be with… In fact, after some time of getting to know one another, Masato was fully ready to develop a set of balls, and courageously present Makoto with a rose; a deep, significant symbolization of the secret he was dying to confess. Rejection or not, he was walking toward the house with stride, only to be let down in pure dismay.
Malik seemed distressed when he entered the household, and after some grieving news, it was apparent that Makoto had disappeared; to where, no one knew, but Masato was distraught, and heartbroken… in his heart, however, he knew she was still existent, though where did she go?
It’d take some time to relinquish his feelings for her… if that was even humanly possible. He constantly thought about her when she was gone, though with each passing day, his spirit seemed to harden. Masato vowed to himself that if he ever found Makoto, he’d present the rose right then and there, and confess his undying love for her; yes… the rose was still lingering in his possession, cared for daily so it remained beautiful, like Makoto. Rumors were spreading that she was among Vizard, though Masato didn’t care. Vizard, hollow, or not, he’d still love her, irrevocably, and relentlessly. His feeling of being needed filled his vision, for he’d support her in an instant. “Here I’d thought… we’d be together forever…” He could only sigh.
Time has passed since then, but his love remains strong, despite the pain. Malik promoted him to Fukutaichō, due to the failure of his previous asset when it came to responsibilities and duties vital to the division. His basis of feeling and duty remains balanced. He’ll never forget his lady, and he’ll never let down his leader, his figure. Time will only tell, if the two will be destined to meet again…
“You will be missed… more than I can possibly say...”
Regarding the present, Masato has lately been in a power struggle between he and his Taicho: like father and son. The conflicting ideals mainly surrounded Makoto, which Masato made it a personal mission to find information regarding her. Beforehand, however, the young shinigami entered a depression and sulked around for days, until his faithful, well-regarded Taichō discussed issues with him in his office.
Given a new light to things, Masato tried as best as he could to resume the daily life of a Fukutaicho, and he met some rather interesting souls throughout this span of time... even trained diligently!
Slowly, he became closer to his dear beloved. Missions surfaced, and Masato soon found himself seeking answers at the Kidō Corps. It was then that surely, fate decided the two would meet again; in a different setting and time, of course.
Kyoto.
A mission to rid the human realm of vizard, Masato actually found what his heart was searching for! Through unconventional means, Malik and Masato [along with Kimiko and Makoto] returned to the Shinigami world, where he now resides today; saddened by the death of the Soutaicho, but gladdened by 'incoming positions and inevitable relations.'
Living in the present never seemed so well, present...
